I slid open the hidden drawer in her wardrobe. At the top of the first page, my full name was printed clearly. The yellowed edges of the documents beneath bore the letterhead of the hospital where I'd been treated after the car accident when I was seventeen. The papers rustled faintly in my hands. Why were my long-forgotten medical records locked away in the depths of Sophia's wardrobe – Sophia, the kindly elderly neighbor who had just asked me to feed her cat?
The New Neighbor
Sophia knocked just as my coffee finished brewing. Opening the door, I found her standing there holding a cardboard box. "Sorry to bother you," she said softly. "Sophia, from across the hall. The courier delivered this to me by mistake. It has your name." I took the box, checked the label – it was indeed mine. "Thanks," I offered. "Care for some coffee?" She gave a small shake of her head. "No trouble. Just wanted to return it."
She paused, her gaze sweeping my entryway. "It's quiet here." "I mostly work from home," I explained. "Freelance writing." She nodded. "That's nice. I won't disturb you further." As she turned to leave, she hesitated. "The neighbors... are they generally pleasant?" "Everyone keeps to themselves," I assured her. "No issues." A subtle relief seemed to ease her posture. "Good. Pleasure to meet you..." She waited for my name. "Michael," I supplied. "Michael," she repeated, as if committing it to memory. "Sophia. Hope I wasn't too much trouble." She retreated to her apartment. After closing my door, I examined the box – just ordinary books. Strange that the courier messed up the clearly numbered doors.
The First Favor
About ten evenings later, she knocked again. This time, she seemed unsettled. "Good evening, Michael. Apologies for disturbing you again." "No problem," I replied. "Everything alright?" She twisted her fingers. "Actually, something rather sudden. My sister is ill, in Albany. I need to leave immediately, likely for a week." Her eyes lifted to mine, their focus uncertain. "I know this is presumptuous, but... I have a cat.
Snowball. I wouldn't trust a kennel. Might you... could you possibly feed him twice a day, just water and food? He's quiet, no trouble." I hesitated. I was indifferent to cats, but neighborly goodwill seemed prudent. "Of course," I agreed. "Just a week? No problem." The tension in her face eased fractionally. "Really? Thank you so much. His routine is simple, I have everything ready." She handed me a densely written note. "Full instructions. And here's the spare key." I took the key. "Don't worry, Sophia. Snowball will be fine. Hope your sister recovers soon." A strained smile touched her lips. "Thank you, Michael. You're a lifesaver. I... I leave first thing tomorrow. I’ll set his food and water out prominently."
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